


A Proper Family Dinner (and it Wasn't Even Thanksgiving)

by Rosawyn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Biphobia, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Canon LGBTQ Character, Character of Faith, Christianity, Coming Out, Crying Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Needs a Hug, Dysfunctional Family, Engagement, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Family Dinners, Family Drama, Family Feels, Gay Castiel (Supernatural), Homophobia, John Winchester Tries, M/M, Past John Winchester/Kate Milligan, Past Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester, Religious Discussion, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-25 13:00:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30089457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosawyn/pseuds/Rosawyn
Summary: Dean and Cas have decided to announce their engagement at a family dinner.  There's no way this could end well, so Dean and Cas are prepared for the worst.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester
Comments: 13
Kudos: 57





	A Proper Family Dinner (and it Wasn't Even Thanksgiving)

“So we're...pretty much expecting this to go terribly?” Castiel asked as he and Dean settled into the Impala.

Dean sighed, resting both hands on the wheel. “I can't imagine it could go _well_ , to be perfectly honest.”

Castiel's lips twisted unhappily. “Right.” Frowning, he pressed his lips together as he buckled himself in. “So just...be prepared for...the worst.”

Dean shrugged, flexing his hands against the smooth familiar curve of the Impala's steering wheel. “I mean, 'the worst' is _probably_ not going to happen.” He wrinkled his nose. “Though I suppose I'm also not entirely sure what that would be, exactly. Probably Sam _and_ Dad both quoting Bible verses at me while Jess nods her agreement and assures everyone the both of us are well and truly damned to hell.”

“We've...read the relevant verses,” Castiel pointed out.

“And talked to Kevin,” Dean added with a nod. “But Kevin the genius Bible scholar isn't going to be here tonight, and I doubt arguing is going to be much help.” He sighed. Swallowing, he added, “You and I both know that people can and do change their minds about stuff—specifically about this—but a shouting match over a family dinner isn't the place that's going to happen.”

Castiel nodded slowly. “I...remember.”

“I'm sorry,” Dean said, grabbing Castiel's hand in a quick grip and pressing his lips to the knuckles. “I'm...so sorry you had to go through that. Once. Already.” Soothing his thumb over the back of Castiel's hand, Dean took a breath and added, “Look, we can back out now. We don't even have to go tonight.” John might deserve that for all the plans he'd cancelled early on when Dean still bothered to try to make them. But this wasn't just John; Sam and Jess and even Adam were all supposed to be there. A proper 'family dinner' and it wasn't even Thanksgiving. “Or we can decide here and now we're not going to tell them, that you and I are 'just friends', keep the physical affection low-key and platonic-like—”

“But we agreed we're getting married,” Castiel put in.

Dean winced. “I know. And I'm not changing my mind about that.” He pressed another kiss to the back of Castiel's hand. “But I'm just saying we don't have to do this _now_. We have time.” Hell, they hadn't even set a date yet. They could...put this off indefinitely if they had to.

Sighing, Castiel turned his gaze out the window. “I think I'd really rather...know where I stand with your family, before I really get attached to the idea of them being _my_ family.”

“All right.” With a final reassuring squeeze, Dean let Castiel's hand go and started the engine.

o0o

As they merged onto the freeway, Castiel spoke up again, “So...is there a chance some of them might be...accepting, supportive?”

Dean cleared his throat. “Sam might. Jess too, I dunno.”

“But not your dad?”

Clenching his jaw, Dean shook his head. “I'd wait for hell to freeze over first.”

A ghost of a smile tugged at Castiel's features. “You know the Lake of Fire isn't—”

Rolling his eyes, Dean cut in, “Don't you start.” With a chuckle, he added, “You're worse than Kevin. At least he has the excuse of actually being a certified expert; you've never even been to Bible school.”

“Kevin's still in school,” Castiel pointed out.

“Yeah, working on his _Masters_ ,” Dean shot back. “Which means he's already got a degree and is officially smarter than you.”

“I have an associate degree in accounting,” Castiel commented.

Dean smirked. “Yeah, so you're officially smarter than _me_.” Reaching over, he patted Castiel's knee. “The next time we see Kevin you can out-number-crunch him while I go take a nap.”

Chuckling, Castiel reached over and gave Dean's knee a squeeze in response. “I think I'd rather take a nap with you.”

Dean cleared his throat and focused his attention on the road. “That wouldn't be very polite to our guest.”

Castiel chuckled again. After a pause he said, “So, tonight...even if there's no...shouting match...we're still just...saying we're engaged and that's it. Right? No other details.”

“Right, yeah.” Dean nodded. “Even if they ask stupid questions like 'who tops?' or whatever.” He wrinkled his nose. “It's just like when Sam was engaged to Jess, as far as I'm concerned—they didn't share details about any sex they may or may not have been having and it was none of the rest of our businesses, and I hope to _God_ no one asked.” Cringing, Dean wondered if maybe John or even Kate at that point had stuck their noses in. Dean hadn't heard anything about it, but that didn't mean nothing like that had happened. In any case, Sam and Jess were now safely married and apparently planning on staying that way for a good long time. Though maybe that's how everyone planned it, going in.

“So they're probably going to assume we're having sex,” Castiel commented.

“Well, yes, but—” Dean sighed. “I think I'd prefer that to saying we're _not_ and them still thinking we're doing it anyway.”

“No, I agree,” Castiel said, nodding. “It is none of their business and the only way we're going to normalize queer relationships is if we treat them the same as any other relationship.”

“Exactly.” Dean nodded. “And since we're not doing anything wrong or even out of the ordinary, we don't need to justify ourselves to anyone.” After a pause, he added, “No matter what anyone says, they're the ones freaking out over nothing.”

After a pause, Castiel said, “I've been thinking about it.”

Dean smirked, shooting a quick sideways glance at Castiel. “About having sex with me?”

“Well.” Castiel's cheeks pinked a bit and he cast his eyes downward. “A bit. I suppose I really don't know what it's like, and I'll admit...I'm a little curious.”

“Well.” Dean cleared his throat. “For the record, it feels pretty good. In the moment, anyway. Not that I'm—that I'm trying to sway you in that direction or anything.”

“You're adorable when you're flustered,” Castiel teased.

“Hey.” Dean rolled his eyes. “You're the one who was blushing.”

“You're blushing,” Castiel pointed out.

“I—” Dean cleared his throat. His cheeks did feel a bit hot, now that he thought about it. Damn it. “Well, I dunno what I've got to blush about,” Dean countered. “I'm not the innocent virgin.”

“I once had a man unzip his pants and stick his genitals in my face,” Castiel deadpanned. “I'm not sure how 'innocent' I could claim to be at this point.”

“I'm sorry.” Dean cleared his throat, suddenly guilty about where he'd unthinkingly steered the conversation. “I know you—you really don't like—”

Castiel waved a hand. “I feel safe with you, Dean.” Offering Dean a bit of a crooked smile, he added, “You're not as intimidating as you think you are.”

Dean rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. “Well, good, I guess.”

Clearing his throat, Castiel shifted a bit in his seat. “So that's why...I've been thinking about this more. I know we agreed from the start that we would never have to have sex. Like we read about on the internet, how some gay Christians do things.”

Dean nodded. They'd discovered that there were two main 'ways' to be a gay Christian, the one where you had sex and the one where you didn't but could still hold hands and kiss and go on dates and maybe even get married. It had been so strange at first to learn that there were other guys out there, Christian guys who identified as gay, bi, and queer, who fell in love with other men—and that was okay. And some of them had sex and some of them didn't and it was all still okay. It had kind of taken the pressure off for both of them, knowing that. “And for the record, that's still fine with me. Like I said then, whatever—whatever you want. I don't wanna pressure you.”

“I don't want to pressure you either,” Castiel said. “Which is why...” He sighed. “I've been thinking lately, since we agreed to get married, that maybe we could say...once we're married, then it's okay. Then sex is okay, for us. Like, if we both agreed to that.” Oh. Dean was about to say that he could agree to that when Castiel pressed on, “But I feel like maybe...” He grimaced. “Would saying we're going to have sex on our wedding night mean that we're pressuring both of us? Like, there's this huge expectation?”

“I suppose—” Dean cleared his throat. “I suppose there's always an expectation there, just because that's what people expect. Even if they've already been having sex, I guess.” He shrugged.

“Maybe that's why some people decide to have sex before marriage,” Castiel mused. “Because then there's no set date, no specific time when they feel like they 'have to'. Though...I suppose there is also some appeal to planning things so the first time can be special.”

“Yeah,” Dean replied with a nod. “I mean, I can see a level of appeal there.” A bit of a grimace flickered across his lips and he cleared his throat. “My first time...wasn't exactly planned. At all.” He shifted his grip on the steering wheel. “There were...probably a lot of good reasons why we should have talked things through ahead of time, but you know.” He twitched his shoulders in a small shrug. “We didn't.”

Castiel nodded. “I think often...when the Bible presents rules and defines sin, it's mostly trying to get us to think things through.”

“And the 'punishment' is mostly just the consequences God was trying to help us avoid,” Dean replied with a bit of a grin. After a pause he added, “You remember that dumb abstinence pledge they had us do that one time?”

Castiel nodded. “With the paper hearts. Mine was yellow.”

“Yup.” Rolling his eyes a bit, Dean said, “Mine was blue.” The image sprang forth vivid in his mind: the not quite smooth curve where someone had cut it out with scissors, the scrawl of Dean's name in Crayola marker. Like some sort of elementary school art project, basically. He worried the inside of his lip a bit. “I—speaking as someone who broke the pledge, I think maybe it would have been more helpful if instead of asking us to pledge to 'wait until marriage' they'd asked us to pledge to think things through before just jumping into bed with someone. Because...once it didn't work out with Lisa, I kind of figured...well, what's the point anymore? I already broke the stupid pledge. Virginity's gone.”

“And that's why...Lydia,” Castiel guessed.

Dean twisted his lips. “Yep. I mean, I knew it was a bad idea...but I did it anyway because...I dunno.” He twitched his shoulders in a shrug. “It didn't seem to matter. What do I even have left to give the person I marry?”

“You still had your heart,” Castiel suggested. “The rest of your life. Speaking as the person you're planning on marrying...those are...pretty important. To me.”

“Well, that's just the thing!” Dean let out an exasperated breath. “They never talked about any of that. They just got us group of dumb teens who didn't know anything about anything in a room and told us that sex was the end all: that one perfect and pure gift you could give once to one person. Sure, they talked it up about how it had to be our choice, don't pledge unless you mean it, all that. But who wanted to be the only one who didn't? And who wanted to...to go against God?”

“Speaking as someone who still hasn't broken the pledge...” Castiel shrugged. “I agree. Completely. I never really thought about it like that, but that was pretty manipulative, the way they did that. Especially how it was public, the peer-pressure aspect.”

Frowning slightly, Dean glanced sideways at Castiel before turning his eyes back to the road. “Is that—is that why you never—?”

Castiel shook his head. Rubbing at his arm through the sleeve of his shirt, he said, “No. Well, not really, anyway. I mean, maybe at first I thought about it some. Like, is this even still possible, being gay and all? Is it still...'allowed' to wait until marriage? And I kind of...” He scrunched up his nose. “I kind of wanted someone to prove that it was, to show me he loved me enough to wait. But at the same time...the importance of writing my name on a yellow heart and sticking it to a red construction paper cross masking-taped to the wall...well, it faded over time. I didn't really feel like God, assuming he still wanted me after all, would really hold me to that.”

Dean chuckled softly. “But when you ran off on your big gay self-discovery road trip, the only guys you met were assholes.”

Castiel shrugged. “More or less.” His lips twisted a bit. “I think a big part of it was that they weren't you.” Reaching out, he put his hand on Dean's knee and gave it a squeeze. “I'm glad we found each other again.”

Damn, there wasn't a day that went by since that fateful moment in the bread aisle at the grocery store that Dean didn't thank God or want to pinch himself or both. They'd been through some less than great stuff since, through Castiel finally admitting why he'd left and Dean being a bit of an asshole himself because he was just _so scared_ of losing Castiel again. And what the hell were you even supposed to do when your childhood BFF came back after disappearing without warning for actual years of no contact and said he'd left because he was gay, in love with you, and convinced you were so straight and religious you'd hate him for it?

Apparently not offer him a blowjob. Even if you were serious.

And especially not if you said it because you couldn't think of a better way to get him to stay.

But Dean's mind had kind of gone to static in that moment in his dingy little kitchen, at the idea that someone _loved_ him. Not because they had to or were supposed to like a family member and not just because they loved everyone like God did, but just because. Because apparently Dean Winchester was lovable on his own merits, so much so that someone who wasn't even supposed to love him did. And to know that Castiel hadn't left because he didn't care, because Dean didn't matter to him...but because Castiel did care and Dean did matter—so much that it scared Castiel.

That mutual coming out debacle had been a real mess and they'd both said stupid shit they'd had to take back, but Castiel had stayed that night anyway. It turned out Dean didn't need to offer sex to get Castiel to hold him, and thankfully Castiel loved Dean enough to forgive him for joining the long list of men who'd learned he was gay and immediately tried to get into his pants. It had been months and it still blew Dean's mind: despite everything, Castiel loved Dean so much that he was willing to try to make things work.

Taking one hand off the wheel, Dean caught Castiel's hand where it lay on his knee and squeezed it in response. “I'm glad we did too.”

“So,” Castiel said after a beat, “we wait until everyone's had time to eat a decent amount but before they get a chance to leave the table. And then we tell them.”

Dean nodded. “That's the plan.”

o0o

“This is nice,” Sam commented as they all got settled around the oval wooden table. “Getting to see everyone like this.”

“I'm not sure I've actually met you,” Jess said with a bit of an apologetic smile across the table at Castiel.

“Oh, right.” Dean was an idiot, because the Sam and Jess thing had barely even begun when Castiel did his disappearing act so they probably hadn't actually had a chance to meet. “Jess, this is Cas,” he tried, motioning a bit awkwardly between the two of them, “Cas, this is Jess.”

“Castiel is a friend from way back,” Sam filled in, saving Dean from having to explain who and what Castiel was to him exactly. “He practically lived here for a while there when Dean and Cas were in high school together.” Turning a smile on Jess, Sam added, “And Jess is my wife.” Looking at Castiel again, he clarified, “She and I met at university and we've been married for three years now.”

“Congratulations,” Castiel said, offering both of them a warm smile. “I'm very happy for you.”

“Thank you.” Smiling, Sam took Jess' hand in his on the tabletop. “Best decision I ever made.”

“I'm glad you all could make it,” John said, offering them all a grateful and slightly hesitant smile. Holding his hands to either side of himself, he said, “Let's ask the blessing.” Everyone joined hands around the table, bowing their heads. “Dear Lord,” John began, “we thank you so much for this day, for this food, for the table set before us and the people gathered here together this evening. We ask that you bless this food and our time that we have together. In Jesus' Name, amen.”

Everyone echoed the “amen” quietly as they released each other's hands and raised their heads once again.

“It's been a while,” Sam commented, clearing his throat. “It's nice to see you, Adam. You're looking well.”

Adam sort of shrugged, poking at his food, and mumbled, “Thanks.”

“He's certainly taller,” John commented with a fond smile in Adam's direction.

“Thankfully Sam's still the same overgrown height,” Dean teased, smirking a bit as he poked at his green beans. “If he got any taller he wouldn't fit through the doors.”

Sam chuckled. “It's been a few years since either of us did any growing, Dean.”

“Dad's been growing.” Dean gestured to John with his fork. “Side to side, anyway.”

Sam, predictably, shot Dean an unhappy-disappointed look for that, but John just shrugged. “Wait till you get to my age.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean rolled his eyes a little as he turned his attention back to his food. “I'm sure I got your genetic predisposition there.”

“More so than I have, anyway,” Sam commented just loud enough for Dean to hear and roll his eyes.

Jess swatted Sam on the arm. “Behave.”

Sam shot Jess a meaningful look and the two of them were staring at each other just long enough for Dean to start wondering what was up when Sam finally cleared his throat and said, “Jess and I actually have an announcement.”

“Oh?” John looked up expectantly.

“You wanna tell them?” Sam asked Jess.

Offering them all a smile, Jess said, “I am about three and a half—almost four—months pregnant.”

“Well, that certainly is good news,” John said through the chorus of congratulations.

Dean pushed aside feelings of jealousy that Sam was having a baby with someone he loved and tried to make his sincere happiness show on his face. He was in fact truly happy for Sam and Jess. If not for the ever-present dread over how he knew the dinner would end, it would actually be really nice.

And the fact was, for all that John did look a bit heavier he also looked happier and healthier than last Dean had seen him. Maybe he was finally starting to get over Kate leaving. Maybe it was the dinner, everyone here being cordial to each other over pork chops and mashed potatoes. But even the house looked cleaner. Less cluttered, less grungy. Maybe John had just tidied up a bit for Adam or for the family dinner, but it was something.

“So, Cas,” Sam said, “it's been a while, man. What have you been up to? Working?”

Castiel nodded. “I have a job as a bookkeeper.”

Sam nodded. “That's...”

“About as boring as it sounds,” Castiel filled in with a small half-smile. He shrugged, adding, “But it's steady hours, steady work. I can't really complain.”

Sam nodded again. “And whereabouts are you living now?”

Castiel paused for perhaps half a second longer than he should have but then said, “With Dean.”

“Oh cool.” Sam smiled. “I know you two used to talk about getting a place together.”

“I suppose that's....finally panned out,” Dean commented, managing not to shift awkwardly in his seat.

“So Adam, you're still in school?” Jess asked.

Adam nodded and Sam asked, “What grade are you in, again? Ten?”

“Eleven,” Adam corrected.

“Right.” Sam nodded. “Tough year. Or, it was for me. I found grade twelve easier, actually. Academically, anyway.” He shook his hair off his forehead. “So how is school going?”

Grimacing, Adam shrugged and pushed his food around his plate with his fork. “I don't really know. Only been at my new school for a couple of days.”

Sam frowned in confusion. “New school?”

“Well, I had to move...back here.” Adam's fork clattered against the edge of his plate and he shot John a helpless look.

With a smile, John said, “Adam's living here now. So he's attending the high school, same one the three of you all went to.” He gestured to include Dean, Sam, and Castiel.

Sam raised his brows. “Oh. Well, that's...” He swallowed. “That's good to hear, that you'll be closer.” He offered an encouraging smile. “We should do dinners like this more often.”

“That's what I'm hoping,” John commented. “Be nice to feel like a real family again.”

Frowning, Dean cleared his throat. “You said you 'had to' move back here.”

Sighing, Adam picked up his fork and worried it with his fingertips. “I came out as gay,” he said bitterly. “And Mom couldn't deal.”

“Wait, what?” Dean gaped as John put a reassuring hand on Adam's arm.

“Oh,” Sam said, raising his brows before his expression morphed into sympathy. “I'm so sorry you had to go through that, Adam.”

Adam shrugged, slumping a bit in his seat. “I mean, other kids have been through worse.”

“Still,” Sam insisted. “I am sorry you had to go through that—but I'm glad you're here.”

“Can we—?” Dean grimaced, shifting in his seat. “Can we go back to the part where you said you were gay?”

Adam glared at Dean. “What about it?”

Dean gestured between Adam and John with his fork and fixed John with a disbelieving stare. “And you're just _okay_ with that?”

“He's my son,” John said firmly. He put a hand on Adam's shoulder. “You don't reject family.”

The wooden legs of Dean's chair scraped roughly against the floor as he stood, the ringing in his ears almost drowning out Sam saying, “Dean!” as Dean flung open the door and stalked outside, slamming the door behind him.

o0o

The evening air out behind the house was cool and smelled a bit like used motor oil. Probably because of the pile of plastic oil bottles heaped against that wall. The gravel crunched under John's boots as he rounded one of the parked trucks to glare at Dean, gesturing towards the house with one palm up and demanding, “You wanna maybe explain what that was all about?”

The gravel scuffed softly under Dean's own boots as he rocked his weight onto the balls of his feet and back. He gave the old broken refrigerator standing against the wall an unimpressed look. No wonder Kate had left. She'd always been neater, more concerned with cleanliness and appearances than John. They'd fought about it.

It was funny in a way, but the house, the yard...it had never looked so odd when Dean was growing up there. It had just seemed normal, and even when Kate complained it had seemed like probably she was overreacting. But this just...wasn't normal. The people who'd called Sam and Dean 'hillbillies', 'rednecks', or worse when they were in high school might have had a point. When your clothes were hand-me-downs and you lived in a dump, well.

“Dean,” John pressed, folding his arms and leaning against the side of the beat-up pickup. The frayed blue tarp draped to keep the rain out of the missing window fluttered a bit in the breeze. Shaking his head, John looked away into the twilight. “You know, the longer you take to start talking, the angrier I'm gonna get.”

“So?” Dean demanded. “Am I supposed to be scared? That you're angry? Scared of _what_ , precisely?”

John jerked his chin towards the house. “The way you ran out of there, sure seemed like you were scared of your skinny little brother.”

Dean rolled his eyes, scoffing. “This has _nothing_ to do with him.”

John raised his brows and rubbed at his stubble with one hand. “Sure could have fooled everyone at that table.”

“This has to do with _you_!” Dean jabbed one angry finger at John. “About how I lived the last twenty years knowing _exactly_ where you stood on homosexuality, at least when it came to your own kids, because you _told_ us.”

Making a quiet sound in his throat, John shrugged and spread his hands. “A man's allowed to change his mind. People do every day.” Shifting his weight, he gestured with one hand. “When you realize you've been wrong, been too harsh, been unreasonable...you correct that.”

“Right.” Dean's lips twisted with distaste. “So _Adam_ gets to find out that you've changed your mind, done a total one-eighty. Now you're all 'I love my gay son' here.”

John shot Dean a hard look. “Whatever childish sibling rivalry you've managed to hold onto all these years, you have no right to try to make him feel unwelcome in his home or unaccepted by his family.”

“Will you _listen_ to yourself!” Dean demanded. He gestured towards the house with an open palm. “I mean, God forbid _Adam_ feel 'unaccepted' by his family.” Making a disgusted noise, Dean looked away then looked back, eyes hard. Pointing an emphatic finger at the house he added, “You sat right there at that kitchen table with me and Sam—hell, Gwen and Chris were there too. And Tyler. We were all playing the 'Game of Life' together. And Sam who must have been all of eight at the time picked another blue peg when it came time to get married, and Chris pointed it out—you know, 'Sammy's marrying another boy!' Sam said, 'Why should it matter?' And you looked right at both of us and told us, 'If you ever bring home someone of the same sex, I'll disown you.' That's what you said.”

“I...don't even remember that,” John said, narrowing his eyes like he was in fact trying to remember.

“Well, guess what?” Dean rounded on John, vibrating with rage. “ _I_ remember! That's—the sort of thing you'd think maybe a kid would remember! Right? No kid is looking to get 'disowned' by their own father. I don't think we really knew what it meant, but it sure sounded bad.” Dean rubbed one shaking hand over his mouth. “It sounded a whole lot like 'unwelcome and unaccepted'. So you know what? You don't get to lecture _me_ about this—this whole Adam thing. It's all easy for you, I guess, to just go 'change' your mind on a whim, 'correct' your 'unreasonable' opinion when suddenly that suits you. But you _didn't tell me_. You never bothered to update me on that.”

“I didn't think I had to!” John shot back. “It hardly seemed relevant to bring up to my adult sons that oh yeah probably I was wrong this whole time about gay people. Sam was madly in love with Jess already and you were running around chasing every skirt that crossed your path, fathering grandchildren I never get to see...”

“Oh, sure.” Dean rolled his eyes heavenward. “I knock up two women and suddenly I'm the biggest man-slut.” He waved a hand towards John. “Good on you for marrying everyone you ever impregnated. I _tried_. I tried _so hard_ with Lisa.” Dean shook his head. “But she didn't want me.”

“I uh...” John considered Dean for a moment. “I didn't realize there'd been another one.”

“Oh.” Dean winced, lips twisting unhappily. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Guess I didn't actually tell you about Lydia—that was just a few months ago now that she contacted me to let me know she'd had my kid. But that was it—just she had a baby girl, named her Emma. No pics or anything and I haven't heard from her since. Won't even give me an address so I can send gifts for Christmas and birthdays.”

“I'm sorry.” John rubbed at his forehead.

“Yeah, well.” Dean wrinkled his nose and swallowed. “Guess that's what happens when you make stupid decisions like that.”

“Maybe...” John tried, “in a few years when the little girl starts asking questions...” He shrugged. “The mother could change her mind.”

Dean snorted. “Maybe. I suppose people do that sometimes.”

“Sometimes.” Sighing, John leaned heavily against the side of the truck. “What I don't understand is why you're so angry about me changing mine about...” He waved a hand, wrinkling his nose. “About homosexuality. I know I made some mistakes raising you kids, but how does that threaten or hurt you in any way that I've decided _not_ to be a total asshole?”

Dean stared at John, blood pounding in his ears. Finally, he just said, “Cas and I are engaged.” After a beat he clarified just to be sure, “To each other.”

John stood up a little straighter, staring at Dean. “You and Castiel are—getting married.”

“Yeah, we...haven't set a date yet,” Dean said, still trembling, “but...yeah.”

John's brows drew together. “But you're...not gay.”

Rolling his eyes, Dean snapped, “I'm bi. You might try looking that up while you're on this changing your dumb opinions kick.”

“All right, okay.” John raised his hands. “But...Castiel is gay?”

Dean's brows twisted. “Yeah?”

“It's just...” John rubbed at his forehead and grimaced. Looking away, he sighed. “I heard something a while back, that he'd had a...falling out....with his family.”

“Yeah,” Dean said flatly. “They disowned him. Essentially.”

John blew out a breath. “Right. Poor kid.”

“So you're really—?” Dean drew a breath, closing his eyes as rebel tears streamed down his face. His voice broke as he tried, “You're okay with this?” He gestured in front of himself. “With—me and...Cas?”

“You're my _son_ , Dean.” John looked down at his shoes. “Whatever I said in the past, there wasn't a moment of your life I could have abandoned you.”

“All right.” Dean swiped at his tears with still-trembling hands. “That's...good—good to know.”

“Hell,” John muttered, stepping forward and pulling Dean into a hug. Dean stayed motionless for perhaps a beat too long before finally returning the hug, breaths shaky in his chest. “I'll always love you, son,” John said, holding Dean tight. “That's not something I can just turn off. And if you and Cas love each other—that's a _good_ thing. I'm glad.”

Dean pulled back, blinking and shaking his head in an attempt to get his face to feel normal again. “Okay.” After a moment of feeling like the world was still spinning off kilter, he asked, “So you'll...come to the wedding and everything?”

“Give me a date and I'll make sure I keep it free,” John replied, giving Dean's bicep a squeeze.

“All right.” Swallowing, Dean gave a jerky nod. His voice sounded strange to his own ears. “Sounds good.”

“It does,” John agreed, offering Dean a hopeful, encouraging smile.

Clearing his throat, Dean looked away. “All right, uh...” Grimacing, he waved his hand towards the house. “Guess it's probably time we went back in there.”

o0o

As the door clattered closed behind Dean and John, Castiel turned, meeting Dean's eyes with worry and asking quietly, “Dean, is everything all right?”

Walking over, Dean put his hand on Castiel's shoulder and murmured, “Yeah.” Clearing his throat, Dean slid back into his seat as John reclaimed his own as well. “So, uh...” Dean glanced furtively around the table at everyone's confused faces. Swallowing, he cleared his throat again, and said, “Well, Cas and I had an announcement too.” Catching Castiel's hand, he squeezed it. “We, uh, haven't set a date yet, but—we're engaged.”

“Oh,” Jess said softly as Sam just gaped.

Twisting his brows, Adam said, “I guess that makes sense, then.”

Dean shot him a small frown and Adam smirked a bit. “Well, when you stormed off like that...Castiel said...it couldn't be because you were homophobic, because you knew he was gay and were fine with it.”

“But, Dean, you're not gay,” Sam protested.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Bi is a thing, Sammy. Look it up.”

“Anyway,” John said, clearing his throat with emphasis. He made a vague circular gesture around the table. “We're supposed to say congratulations.”

“Yeah, uh...congratulations,” Sam said, still frowning worriedly between Dean and Castiel.

“So how does a gay wedding even work?” Adam asked. “Does one of you wear a white suit? Does Dad give you away, Dean?”

Chuckling, Dean dropped his gaze to his plate and poked at his remaining food. “Uh...I mean, I think we can wear whatever colours we want. We haven't worked out all those details yet.”

“I was thinking of maybe a pink suit,” Castiel commented.

“Really?” Adam looked up at that with interest. “That sounds sufficiently gay.”

Castiel chuckled. “Though I suppose a nice soft pastel purple could also work...” he mused. “Maybe with a rainbow cummerbund.”

“Hey, I don't even want to wear a cummerbund,” Dean groused. His brows drew together and he pointed at Sam with his fork. “Sammy didn't have to wear one for his wedding.”

“We weren't really going that formal,” Jess put in.

“Well, I approve,” Dean said. “Less formal sounds good to me.”

“We could do a beach wedding,” Castiel commented. “Everyone in shorts and sandals.”

Dean frowned, considering that. “I guess...that could be okay. But I was thinking more cowboy-themed.”

“You wanna ride a horse down the aisle?” Sam teased.

Dean laughed, pointing at Sam with his fork again. “Now _there's_ an idea.”

“You could always ride horses on the beach,” John put in.

“You could!” Jess agreed, eyes shining like she was already planning out how to place glass candleholders to make artistic pathways in the sand like some Pinterest bullshit.

“Okay but,” Adam cut in, “who takes who's last name?”

“I think most people hyphenate,” Dean responded.

“I think most do.” Castiel nodded. Pressing his lips together, he glanced at Dean. “But I think I'd just like to be a Winchester.”

“Well,” John said, clearing his throat, “I'd be proud to have you as part of the family regardless.”

o0o

“Are you all right?” Castiel asked.

“Huh?” Dean looked up, blinking and wondering vaguely how long he'd been sitting on the edge of their bed just zoning out. He'd managed to get his boots off and had his phone in his hands but the screen was dark.

“Dean.” Castiel came closer, touching the side of Dean's face and looking intently into his eyes.

Dean dropped his gaze, setting his phone aside on the nightstand. “I'm fine, Cas.”

“You didn't really look fine,” Castiel countered as he pulled away and started unbuttoning his shirt.

“You are so beautiful,” Dean said without quite meaning to. His cheeks heated and he smiled self-consciously.

Leaning in, Castiel pressed a soft kiss to Dean's cheek. “You are especially beautiful when you're blushing.”

Smirking a little, Dean looked away. “Yeah, shut up.” Standing up, he shucked off his shirt and tossed it at the laundry hamper. Pausing, he stared at the blank wall for a moment. “Cas?”

“Yeah?”

Dean grimaced. “Why wouldn't I be fine? I should be...great, actually.” He shoved one hand back through his hair. “Tonight went...better than either of us could have hoped.” He worried the inside of his lip. “Right?”

“I suppose it...did.”

“Yeah.” Dean nodded. “Yeah, I mean...” He swallowed, blinking. He worried the waistband of his jeans a little with his fingertips. “Dad's even gonna come to our wedding. Sam too. Adam. They're all gonna be there. It'll be...good.” Like a real family, like John had said.

Castiel offered Dean a soft smile as he slipped his pyjama shirt on. “We should set a date. I'm excited for this beach cowboy wedding.”

Dean laughed softly. “Yeah, um...should be fun.” Finally tugging off his jeans, he tossed them over the back of the chair he used for hanging clothing he was going to re-wear. Cas had insisted early on that leaving clothing on the floor was unacceptable and Dean had to admit Cas had a point. Picking up his pyjama pants from the chair, Dean stared down at the material twisted in his hands. “Why...why do I still feel like this?”

Castiel put a gentle hand on Dean's lower back. “Dean?”

Dean grimaced, looking away. “I just feel...upset. With my dad, I guess.” He shrugged.

“That's...understandable,” Castiel said.

“Why?” Dean pressed his lips together, eyes burning. “He's changed his opinions. Everything's good now. It shouldn't matter what he said years ago because now—” Dean sucked in a breath and let it out. John had acknowledged that he'd been wrong. What more did Dean _want_ from him? “Hell, Cas. He's even helping brainstorm ideas for our gay wedding.”

Castiel brushed a gentle kiss to Dean's bare bicep then rested his cheek against Dean's shoulder. “What did...he actually say?”

“What? Tonight, or...?”

“Before.”

Dean scrunched up his face, moving finally to pull on his pyjama pants. “That he'd disown me if I ever had a gay boyfriend, or whatever. But he didn't even remember saying it, and obviously he didn't really _mean_ it...”

“Dean,” Castiel said, quiet and wounded.

Dean waived a hand. “He told me tonight that he could never stop loving me, that he could never have abandoned me. That's what _matters_ , Cas.”

Castiel sank down quietly to sit on the edge of the bed. “My mother—she once told me, well, more than once, actually. She used to read me this book, where a mother said she'd love her son forever. And she would kiss me at bedtime and tell me that she would love me until the end of the world. In the end...” Grimacing, Castiel ran a hand over his face. “I don't know. Maybe she does...” He looked away. “...still love me. In some way.” His shoulders slumped. “But she doesn't talk to me, so...it doesn't feel like it. It's hard to even—tell myself that maybe she does.”

Walking over quietly, Dean sat next to Castiel and placed a gentle hand on Castiel's thigh, warm through the thin material of his pyjama pants. “Cas, I am so sorry.”

Castiel sniffed, pressing his lips together. “I mean, maybe...they all just need more time. Sometimes...it takes time. To change.”

“Yeah.” Dean blinked, staring down at the carpet. “I mean, just look at my dad, right? He...changed his mind.”

Catching Dean's hand, Castiel squeezed it firmly. “But you spent all those years believing his love was conditional. Because he told you it was.”

“Yeah, and it turned out your mom lied to you when she said hers wasn't.” Dean shrugged. “That has to be worse.”

“I suppose...” Castiel's nose scrunched up a bit. “Objectively, it is.”

Dean frowned. “Just 'objectively'?”

“Well, I guess...” Castiel sighed. He pressed his lips together. “I suppose maybe...it's easier for me in some ways, because it's simpler; my parents cut off contact.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I didn't even get a choice in that. With your dad...he loves you and accepts you. You can't hate him.”

“But I don't _want_ to hate him,” Dean objected. “Why would I want to hate him?”

“Maybe you want...to be allowed to hate him,” Castiel suggested. “To feel like it would be justified.” He grimaced, shaking his head. “I mean, I don't hate my family. And to be quite honest I wouldn't want to either. But I think maybe it's easier for me, simpler, knowing I'd be fully justified if I did.”

Shaking his head as well, Dean chuckled softly. “I don't really see how any of this is simple.”

“Maybe not.” Castiel's warm weight leaned into Dean's side.

Dean wrapped his arm around Castiel's shoulders, tugging him a bit closer. Pressing a kiss to Castiel's hair, Dean whispered, “I love you.”

“I suppose at least that is simple,” Castiel commented, pressing further into Dean's side.

Chuckling, Dean replied, “Now, anyway.”

Castiel tilted his face up to smile warmly at Dean. “It really didn't feel simple at all for a long time.”

“At least we figured it out, huh?” Dean pressed a soft kiss to Castiel's lips. “Honestly,” Dean admitted, “loving you has been one of the simplest things in my life so far.” He'd never struggled with it like Castiel had, for years of agony, because, well, Dean had known right from the start that Castiel loved him back. It wasn't fair, but it had just been so much easier from Dean's side of things. And everything with Castiel, the kissing and talk of marriage and all of that, had just felt so _right_. Maybe Dean had in fact been in love with Castiel for years as well and just hadn't realized it. Dean could be pretty dense, so that tracked. “But you know,” Dean went on, “in that moment, when you said, that, said, 'I was...in love with you...I still am, actually,' that was it.” Reacting appropriately hadn't been simple, but how Dean felt? Well, that was the easy part. He loved Castiel with every burning bright desperate fibre of his being. “I knew I'd do anything for you. I knew I couldn't _ever_ stand to—to lose you again.”

“You're not going to lose me again,” Castiel promised, placing his hand over Dean's heart. “I want to be angry at your father,” Castiel added after a pause. “And for what he said to you all those years ago and for only taking it back tonight, I am.”

“I don't...really want you to be angry at him,” Dean admitted. Grimacing, he shook his head. “ _I_ don't even want to be angry at him.” His lips twitched and he looked away, rubbing at his nose. “He gave me a hug. Tonight. Y'know, we've never really been huggers, exactly. But I was crying—he just stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me, tight.” Shaking his head, Dean added, “You're right. Part of me wishes it were simple. I was so geared-up for this to be the last time I saw him, the last time he spoke to me. I was ready for that—or thought I was. I would have known what to do with that, anyway: flip him the bird and drive off into the sunset to my happy ending with you.” Chuckling softly, Dean ducked his head. “What the hell am I supposed to do now?”

“Still have our happy ending?” Castiel suggested.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed with a damp laugh. “And if my confusing mess of a family wants to be there, to be a part of it...” He shrugged. “Might as well let them, right?”

Castiel offered Dean a quiet half-smile. “Might as well.”


End file.
